My clumsiness revealed

So perhaps by reading my blog you have figured out that none of my offspring should ever be named "Grace." I welcome catastrophes. I have a good friend here, Jon Lee, who gets teased a lot about being accident prone. I sat him down the other day and thanked him for taking the heat, because it totally overshadows me and my friends haven't quite picked up on my own clumsiness yet. However, it's beginning to show in the house. So much, in fact, I had to call a "family meeting" was with my roomates to explain my clumsiness and apologize. You know when people move in and they tell their quirks from the get go, "When you live with me you need to know that I am on the phone a lot" or "You need to know I like to have the bathroom to myself 30 minutes each morning" and so on. So I had to sit down and say, "You need to know I am sorry for being a clutz. And you need to know that at least one more thing will be broken before I move out if here."

It's hard to apologize for being hexed. You have to own it if you damage someone's property, but when 90% of the accidents are result of my lack of dexterity and an internal magnet that attracts catastrophe, it's hard not to want to play victim. Now I know sometimes I get into a hurry, but that's not the cause of all my mistakes. My dad always tells me to "slow down," to which I want to raise my voice and respond, "would slowing down have REALLY prevented that doorknob handle to fall off into my hand the minute I barely touched it!" I will totally own my mistakes- I am sorry I talked behind your back, I am sorry I made out with your boyfriend (kidding), I am sorry I rolled my eyes at you, I am sorry I am being mean, I am sorry I ate half a box of your cheezits"... Totally can do that, but "I am sorry I am accident prone" is hard to say, because I AM sorry. But I am sorry for ME. I really am not sorry for you. I am sorry about your stuff was yet another casulty to my clumsiness- Sorry that the fridgerator shelf decided to break causing all the contents to bust and break, or sorry the laundryroom doorhandle fell off in my hand when I opened it (one of the incidents from growing up at the Martin household).

But if I were going to be completely honest, REALLY what I am sorry about is that I, once again, have to take the walk of shame to tell you what I did. And that I have to apologize for something I didn't do on purpose.

My roomates are wonderful and gracious, and luckily the $50 I slipped them helped ease the pain. Just kidding. Here are a few that have happened since our move in 3 months ago. After the listed incident, you will find a brief synopsis of the event to proove to you that I am not always uncareful, things just happen with me:

1. Scratching Tiara's table: This initiated the incident report, as it happened before we even moved in. I put a tray down and picked it up and somehow, there is a monster scratch on the whole table.
2. Pouring an entire recipe of homeade salsa all over Tiara's food processor: We were totally able to clean this up, but I dumbly picked up the bowl with the whole in the bottom without sealing it. So I will own this one.
3. Breaking a votive holder of Reagan's: It was in the bathroom. I think a towel was involved...
4. Burning an iron spot on Reagan's iron board cover: I was in a hurry for church and forgot, as this is the only day I iron, and that's only if it's really bad. Keep your head in the game, Caroline!
5. Breaking the towel rack in the bathroom: ALL I did was shut the door and it fell off and shattered. I did NOTHING wrong!
6. Spilt garlic butter all over Tiara's cloth covered rocking chair: Punishment from Heaven. Like pizza isn't clogging my arteries enough on it's own, I had to dip it in butter. Gross. And of course it tipped all over the chair.
7. I have stepped on Cooper, Tiara's cat on numerous occasions. This can't be good for his tail.

There are more things, I am sure of it. And I will post the other things once they realize I broke them. Just kidding girls! If you will notice a pattern here: None of this stuff is mine. I have broken nothing of mine. I am only hexed with other people's stuff. It's not because I am more careful with my stuff, it's because a.) my furniture didn't make the upstairs cut- it's in the basement where we are less often, and b.) if I am going to create a catastrophe, it's going to inevitably be something that I am going to feel like crap about. That's why I don't spend a lot of money on stuff. I am just gonna break it, bleach it, or scratch it eventually. Read the "Those Martin Girls" post to fully understand how this persona has followed me throughout my whole life.